The Parting Glass
by AtinBralor
Summary: Set in 3BBY, the Death Watch return to threaten to Kyrimorut aliit.
1. Chapter 1

_AN: Welcome to a new story for my Kyrimorut aliit. This will mark a significant point for the family and I hope I do it justice. It will probably be no longer than ten chapters and, as always, slots in to the same time frame and family relationships as all my other work. It may help to be aware of the goings on in 'Atin Bralor' and 'Red Eyes' as well, although it is not essential. _

_The inspiration and drive to write this story comes from the traditional song, 'The Parting Glass'...that may give some hint as to the direction of the story, but I don't want to give too much away. _

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**_Chapter 1_**

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_**Of all the money that e'er I had, I spent it in good company.**_

_**And of all the harm that e'er I've done, alas it was to none but me.**_

_**And all I've done for want of wit, to memory now I can't recall.**_

_**So fill to me the parting glass. Goodnight and joy be with you all.**_

_ - Traditional Scottish Song_

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**Kyrimorut Bastion, Northern Mandalore in the year 3BBY**

They had lived in relative sanctuary in the dense forests of Northern Mandalore for around sixteen years now. Families and friendships had blossomed, even within the confines of this strange aliit. They had worked hard to create a home...not a fort, not a place of pure safety...but a home.

Sure, there were arguments; having this many people within such a close community would always result in arguments. Anything said in haste was always patched up soon enough. There was always someone to turn to when another irritated you; too many people to form cliques of any kind. A large enough mix of personalities to prevent boredom.

It was a perfect community.

The plan had come together and they had a haven for former clone personnel; a mix of everything from ARC trooper to clone trooper...medic to sniper. A true mix of skills and back grounds coming together. In the grand scheme of the entirety of the GAR's clone forces, it was a raindrop in the sea, but for the men who had found sanctity here, it meant everything.

And for those who never made it, the monolith stood as a constant reminder with the tallies laid at its base. Mandalorians were meant to have no memorials - no need for physical reminders - but this time it had felt right. Those men gave their lives for a cause that they had no stake in and it was fitting to remember them. Nobody else had cared. Somebody had to.

And now a simple act, forgotten with time, had raised its ugly head and threatened to destroy everything they had.

Kal sat heavily on his chair by the fire, old bones aching and suddenly feeling ten years older. "How did you hear? Is the source trustworthy?" He was seventy years old now and had been enjoying his twilight years among the family.

He was surrounded by his sons and daughters, close friends and grandchildren. It was an unusual family, all adopted and integrated through marriages and relationships, apart from his genetic daughter, Ruu. Everything he had desired had been completed; the boys had their cure and were aging at half the normal human rate - the closest they would ever come to a replacement for the childhood destroyed by training and warfare. They had families...children of their own….

His close friend, Mij Gilimar; former Cuy'val Dar, sat opposite him nursing a glass of ale. It seemed that he needed the liquid courage to help him unburden himself. He was showing his age, a little younger than Kal - more ages with Walon Vau, who was also sat among the audience with his strill at his feet - but still looking the worse for his knowledge and what it would hold for the clan. His gold armour shone in the firelight. It would have matched Kal's if he had been wearing it. They both fought for vengeance. "A trustworthy source. He was a commando under Priest and I suppose he must have got out and turned to the only organisation he knew. If we'd known he would have been welcome here, but he escaped under his own steam and returned to them." He took a deep breath and a swallow of his alcohol. "I patched him up often enough at Kamino, we got friendly. He contacted me yesterday out of the blue. I didn't even know he was out...I didn't know he was alive...but he said he couldn't have it on his conscience."

Ordo had been pacing quietly across the open space, his thumbs pushed under the end of his tunic to hook in his belt. The whole family had gathered in the dark kar'yai, listening to the information and the storm outside. He couldn't bring himself to sit down. He knew as more was said just how bad this was for them and with every crash of thunder or flicker of lightening illuminating the dark room, his deeply buried internal fear spiked. Kamino and its nightmares never left them - not even the storms. The room should have been cosy; the fire burning in the central hearth providing a warm glow and the entirety of his large family gathered closely together, but the fear was still there, deeply seated even after all these years. He could see anxious energy in his Null brothers in ways that few others would. He dragged his full attention back to what was being said and gently touched his wife's shoulder in comfort as he made another pass. "He's in danger then?" It wasn't really a question, but he still framed it that way to encourage the doctor to keep talking.

Mij let his gaze settle on the former Captain, following him as he paced. "He understands what he's doing and he accepts the risks associated. He plans to stick close and get them from the inside." He drew a breath and glanced back at Kal. "I told him that there would be somewhere for him afterwards."

There was a tense silence, broken only by the crackling of the fire. Nobody seemed to want to be the one to answer. It was hard to trust someone from inside an organisation even if he was a brother. But then surely ever brother deserved a chance to escape and this unfortunate commando had moved from one army to another. That wasn't retirement. A few glanced around the room, probably all thinking that they were all running the exact same thoughts through their minds; all too scared to voice them.

Mij nodded slightly, still watching Kal. "He's an old man, Kal, like us. He didn't get a cure like your boys did. He'd be around fifty eight years old now. He deserves the chance to live his remaining years in peace and if it can't be here, he can live with me." He looked around the room, his eyes passing over the men and trying to imagine where they would be if it weren't for Kal and Walon. Any single one of them could have been lost like this poor commando. It was a hard world when you escaped the army with no name, no citizenship, no money...nothing but the armour you stood up in, which now marked you as a traitor…

There was a creak as Kal straightened up in his chair, drawing the attention of ever set of eyes in the room and bringing Ordo across the space to his side in protection. Protection against what? Protection against anything - everything. It was a habit long ingrained. Eternal gratitude. "Provided there is still a Kyrimorut, he will have a place here." He found it hard to imagine a clone that was already the same age as Walon or Mij. It was cruel. They'd been middle aged when these boys were still in gestation tanks. They should never outlive them.

He looked up at Ordo who was standing by his chair with a hand resting on the back. War had caught up with the ARC captain before they even reached desertion and his dark, wavy hair was streaked with grey around the temples. Other than that obvious marker, he hadn't changed much in the intervening years. He was probably around thirty six years old, physically - it was hard to keep track now that the aging had been changed in their favour - but he still looked fit and powerful; every bit the template of genetic perfection. Only when he stood with his family did it become obvious how unusual they were. Besany stood tall at his side but her blonde hair was now heavily streaked with grey. She was rushing towards fifty while time almost stood still for him. It didn't seem to make any difference to them; she was still the powerful woman she had always been and age hadn't slowed her down any. In time the difference would become more obvious but that was a road to cross when it came and not to be worried about in advance. Shereshoy; live for the moment and live it to the fullest. Their son was the perfect image of his father in everything from appearance and personality to his skills. They fought side by side as equals, although Tor still didn't have the experience that his father had had by sixteen.

The more he looked at his family it became clear that he couldn't deny this unknown commando a place among them, especially when he was taking such a risk for them. They had never met yet he was still willing to risk his own life to prevent the extermination of his brothers.

It was almost as if Mij could read his very thoughts, because he fixed his sad gaze on him, seeing the fear and guilt in his eyes. "He said he may have fought with them for sixteen years, but when he realised that they were targeting a family of clone deserters he couldn't live with himself being party to such an action." He paused and stared hard at his hands. "He knows what I did...about Priest...but he says his duty to brothers comes higher that of the Death Watch. He doesn't know why they are going after Kyrimorut and not just me...probably out of malice. I'm sorry to bring this upon you, Kal. Truly sorry."

Kal shook his head firmly, forcing a smile for his old friend. "I'd have done the same thing if I'd had the chance. We'll manage, Mij'ika. We'll plan and succeed….we always do. You're welcome to stay with us. Safety in numbers, ner vod."

It was silent for a few minutes although the doctor had nodded in thanks, clearly accepting the offer.

After a long and contemplative silence, he opened his mouth to speak again, not completely aware of doing so.

"His name is Tag. He deserted when he lost his brothers at Order 66. He's scared, just as he was scared every time he ended up in my med unit on Kamino. The Death Watch bullies and pulls in members through fear as much as loyalty. I promised him safety and he will have it."

There room held the same electric quality as the storm outside. Everyone was scared. There was much to be done and this was home. Any attack on home was unsettling. Sickening.

But they would pull together like they always had and welcome this new brother with open arms when it was over...not if...when.

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_**As **__with_ all of my work, I appreciate any reviews and comments, although I am not the best at discussion and conversation, I try my best. I write for myself but I'd be lying if I said that I didn't get that spark of joy to see a review or a comment. I've tried to plan this one out a little more because I don't think I'd do it justice if I leapt in as I usually do and plan on the fly! I hope some folk enjoy it, although it's definitely going to be a lot darker than anything else I've written. In that, I hope I do it justice. ~ Atin


	2. Chapter 2

_**Of all the comrades that e'er I had, they're sorry for my going away,**_

_**And all the sweethearts that e'er I had, they would wish me one more day to stay,**_

_**But since it falls unto my lot that I should rise and you should not,**_

_**I'll gently rise and I'll softly call, "Goodnight and joy be with you all!"**_

_- Traditional Scottish Song_

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_**Kyrimorut, Northern Mandalore; in the early hours of that morning**_

There was a knock at his door and some quiet muttering in the hallway. He wasn't asleep and had accepted hours ago that he wasn't going to achieve rest, so he pushed the sheets back and sat up to scrub his hands through his hair. He was about to open his mouth to ask them in when the door creaked open. He rolled his eyes and glowered half-heartedly as his brothers crept in. "Kom'ika…Mer'ika…don't you wait to be invited?"

Kom'rk gave him an attempt at a grin but it didn't reach his eyes. "There's never a closed door between us, ner vod." He trod softly across the floor boards and slipped on to the mattress at Prudii's side, leaning back against the wall. He had sat with his blind side towards his brother, gently moving close enough to brush shoulders with him. It was a long ingrained habit to have someone he trusted in that vulnerable spot, even in the safety of a bedroom in the peaceful hours of the night. The fear of the impending battle was enough to make him shuffle close for the skin contact.

Mereel was less needy of contact and settled down cross legged at the head of the bed, leaning over to flip on the lamp, pulling the pillow in to his lap so that he could lean his elbows on it. "Ordo's still up with Kal'buir. I checked on Jaing and A'den but they're both dozing so I left them to sleep." He reached in to his pocket and pulled out a small bag of nuts and dried fruit for them to share; sweet treats to take their mind off the stress. "We'll split up in to groups tomorrow? Best skilled assigned in best locations…we'll be okay." He was saying it as much to comfort himself as anything else.

Prudii nodded slowly, bringing his hand down on to Kom'rk's thigh as his brother jerked with the rumbles of the storm. "Scouts and snipers first; then we can get an inner ring and an outer ring." He patted absently, trying to ease his nerves. "We need somewhere safe for those who can't fight, like Arla and Jesse, maybe Jilka and Ny as well." He gave his brother a sideways glance, staring at the pale twisting scar around his milky grey eye. It was dangerous ground to tread, but his brother had never fought in this time of scenario since losing his sight in that eye. It was difficult to react in that type of scenario when you only had fifty percent of your sight, and adding the risk of fitting on top of that just made it all the worse. He would be a danger to himself at worst and a liability at best.

Kom'rk seemed to know exactly what he was thinking because he turned his head so that he could see him, but didn't say anything. He expected it; he had been injured out of the war, so of course he anticipated the caution, but he was capable. It wasn't time to argue it. If he argued it made it seem like there was a reason to doubt him, so instead he kept quiet, letting them think what they wanted but without backing it up. He shifted towards the edge of the bed and slept Mereel's knee with false enthusiasm. "C'mon, vode, let's go and find Ordo and get some planning done…bring the nuts…"

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It was bitter cold when the family gathered together for task assignment the next morning. The sky looked as if it may snow, but they prayed against that eventuality. If it snowed it would be much harder to conceal themselves in the surroundings, but the dull, foggy winter weather was ideal. Only Mij and Kal had pale plate colouring and they were both assigned to indoor teams. These teams were the final defensive barrier; hopefully not to be reached, but there to protect the vulnerable members of the family if it came to it.

The plan had been devised to cover both approaches to the bastion; North and Southeast. The Northern tunnels came out in the forest half a klick from the home and served as a retreat route – unfortunately, any retreat could also be a point of attack. Chances are that the concealed tunnels would go unnoticed, but as a precaution the first internal team had been assigned to guard the point where the tunnel met the home complex, just in case. Kal and Vau had agreed to lead this team, accompanied by Besany and Venra. Mij, Niner and Parja were guarding the equivalent point for the Southeast tunnel system. The tunnels to the Southeast didn't open up above ground so were unlikely to be used as an infiltration point, but they connected to the farm steading built by Levet and Yayax Squad around five klicks away. It had been a huge project in the early years of the bastion but now it had provided and escape for those unable to fight. The tunnels were peppered with holding points every klick that could be defended and this was the point where Jesse, Ny, Arla and Jilka had paused to set up their temporary accommodation. Jesse still carried a gun because he had refused to be assigned to this group and left unable to do his bit. He was still a soldier in his mind, no matter whether he could see the enemy or not. He could and would shoot in defence. If the Death Watch got as far as them, then that meant they'd over run the entire bastion and the game was pretty much over, but it was still nice to be able to shoot back.

The main fighting force had been divided in to teams, dependant on their individual skills. Sev would lead a team of snipers, comprising of Corr, Fi, Atin and At'ika. Niether Fi nor Atin was as good as shot based on pure sniping skills, but they had knowledge of what was expected of them and their shooting was still probably as good as any mongrel sniper reasoned Sev. They would split up and set themselves around the main approach to the bastion, just outside the first ring of defence, while Mereel, A'den, Bardan and Kad'ika were heading out as sentry. Tag had called Mij as they sat eating breakfast and hashing out plans to tell them that the attack was being mounted soon, probably when darkness hit at the end of the day. He had sounded scared; knowing what he was getting himself in to but Mij and Kal had done their best to calm him and assure him of his place among the family. It was a brave move to be making for brothers he had never met and people he merely hoped he could trust. If he put a foot wrong, he could be found out and then there would be no talking himself out of that.

There was little time to plan and panic, everyone had a job to do and a place to be. Ordo had tried his best to convince Kom'rk to at least remain inside with Kal or Mij's team but his brother was having none of it so the made up the final ring of defence with Tor and Scorch. They were the final defence between the attackers and their home. All they could do was gather up their equipment and head out to their arranged locations. There was no time for discussion…anything could happen. The attack could hit in broad daylight; it would be a silly way to attack a well defended bastion when darkness would provide them a little extra cover, but it would be unexpected and that could be a tipping point in its favour. They had to be ready just in case.

It was hard to watch everyone splitting up and splintering away in small groups. The desire to cling together was over powering. It had never been in war – in war they followed the plan because it was the best solution, but when it was your own home and family you defended, it was hard not to want to stay together and be there to try to protect everyone at once. It wasn't correct, but it was desirable.

They came together in the courtyard to say goodbyes and good lucks. It would be over sooner than it seemed – that was always the case. Kal had stood by Ordo's side for as long as possible, embracing each and every member of the family as they dispersed. Vau had stood with them, clasping hands with his boys and Kal's, giving the ladies a gentle kiss on the cheek. At'ika had held out her hand, verpine rifle slung over her shoulder and helmet tucked under one arm. She wanted treated like her uncles and cousins, heading out with the men to actively defend. Kal had hugged her tight and kissed her hair and she was thankful of his solid security at the head of the family. She held her hand out to Vau and he took it firmly, grasping her forearm in the traditional handshake. Instead of releasing him and turning away to join her team as she had intended, she found herself throwing herself against him, burying her face in his matte black armour plated chest for the count of three, then she pulled back and drew a nervous breath. "We'll be okay, won't we, ba'buir?" She was sixteen years old and had been an adult in Mandalorian culture for three years, but this was the first time she'd fought for something of value. This generation had grown up without having to fear for their safety.

He smiled at her. "Of course, jatnese be te jatnese. The kyr'tsad are a disorganised band of chakaare." He glanced at Kal for support. This wasn't his role. He was brutal pragmatism…while Kal did uplifting.

Kal turned towards them, his hand resting on Ordo's arm; silent support. "Exactly; jatnese be te jatnese. This time tomorrow we will be celebrating a victory and a new addition to the family."

Fi came over to squeeze his daughter's shoulder and encourage her, joining in the smiles and hope.

They all knew it was a façade for fear, but nobody broke the spell. It was the best they had to set themselves up for the hours to come.

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**_Thank you for the review on chapter 1. I'm glad the song is appreciated - it's just such a beautiful song and perfect for the concept. ~ Atin_**


	3. Chapter 3

_**These next chapters will be slightly shorter as I focus on each step or team. It'll take a few chapters to cover each significant point. This story isn't so much about the finer points of battle, thankfully, but more about the social response of the attack. If that doesn't make sense yet, hopefully it will when I reach the aftermath. ~ Atin**_

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**Kyrimorut, Northern Mandalore ****22:06hrs**

Mereel gave a quiet chuckle and rolled on to his side to watch his brother squirming among the damp leaves. They'd been set up in observation for a little over five hours now. Darkness had descended fast but fortunately the snow had stayed away. It was freezing cold and wet, but that was normal for the time of year and they were used to it. Bardan and Kad'ika were observing a different approach. Ideally they would have split up, with a Null and a force sensitive in each pair, but logic had been shoved aside in favour of working with his brother. "Fine, go on then but don't get out of sight." He watched him pause for a moment to check their surrounds. "You're spoiled, you know that? What would you have done back in the day?"

A'den growled quietly in his throat and raised himself to his feet, stretching his aching muscles. "Back in the day we had recycling armour systems. I'll be two minutes, just keep watching that track."

Mereel watched him stalk a few paces away, pulling his helmet off to rub hands through his hair and take a long drink from his canteen. He rolled back on to his stomach as his brother gave him a raised eyebrow stare. He lay quietly, watching through the trees towards the path speckled with moonlight. He heard his brother's footsteps followed by a sharp gasp and struggle. He rolled over to see what was going on and suddenly there was a figure launching towards him.

It was instinct and long ingrained training that got him to his feet with an animal grunt of pain, gripping the wrists of his attacker, abruptly aware of the knife in his hand. He could feel the sticky blood where it had cut in to his side away from his armour. The Kyr'tsad soldier was smaller and lighter than him, possibly a female, and was using this to their advantage. He had height and muscle mass, but struggled to put it to use. The knife plunged at him again but this time it glanced off his plates and he had that brief moment to continue pushing the solider off balance. There was no time to think or act neatly and he just plunged his gauntlet mounted blade into the unprotected throat, ripping through the flight suit and cutting just as Kal had taught them so many years ago.

The body jerked under his, grabbing his arms in retaliation but the attempts quickly became weak. It was a quick way to kill someone if you did it right.

There was a few seconds of intense silence before he staggered away from the body to crawl to his brother's side. The Kyr'tsad soldier had slashed the knife towards A'den's neck, cutting deeply down his cheek and diagonally on to his throat. He was barely conscious and bleeding heavily.

He swore repeatedly under his breath, running through his considerable list without repetition as he pulled out the contents of his medkit. His hands shook as he fished for the correct syringes and carefully ripping open the arm of his brother's under suit to inject them into his bicep. _Blood loss control agent and a strong painkiller. _He hesitated for a moment before injected him with a stim shot as well. It was his natural reaction to injury – to bolster the body's systems but he didn't know in this case if it was the right thing to do. He'd never had to deal with emergency first aid. He'd trained just as every commando had been expected to, but working alone had meant he never encountered the same scenarios as trooper brothers or even the commando units.

He quickly applied a self-sealing dressing, coated in an agent which promoted blood clotting. He knew that you could apply these dressings one over the other if the bleeding soaked through and not to take away the pressure to change it…keep adding layers as needed. He blinked on his comlink to the sniper teams, needing to warn them. "Mereel here, hard contact. Enemy slotted. A'den's injured…" His voice cracked and he bit hard on his lip. He swallowed and tried to continue. "Heavy bleeding." The blood had soaked through the first dressing and his hands shook as he applied a second. "Fi…"

Fi's voice filled his helmet. _"Mer'ika, all you can do is control the blood loss. Keep him alert if you can. If I move now to come and help I'll give away our position, but I'll get myself or someone with more kit to you as soon as we can. Keep…"_

Mereel heard the pause and almost held his breath, listening to the nuances of breathing to work out what was going on. He heard Sev's grunt that usually meant he had reached some conclusion in his mind, and sure enough he was the next to speak.

"_Contact."_ It was whispered, which was a good marker of the sniper's nerves. They could shout inside the helmet and nobody would know.

He cut out of the circuit, scared to distract any of them at a crucial moment and returned his attention to his brother. He managed to haul him upright against a tree trunk, hoping that the effect of gravity would help slow the bleeding. He had another trio of drugs in his hand but didn't want to administer them too quickly so he tucked them in to his belt and took out the canteen instead. He managed to get A'den to swallow a few sips although most of it ran down his chin. His brother was beginning to shiver so he took the risk of applying the other stim shot immediately. It was worth the risk to keep him from going in to shock.

"C'mon, vod'ika, stay with me." He watched the drug disperse and the almost immediate increase in his brother's awareness. It wasn't much but his eyes were no longer half lidded; he slumped a little less. "That's it, good lad. Won't be long till we get some help…just hang in there."


	4. Chapter 4

**Kyrimorut, Northern Mandalore ****22:12**

There was almost an unnatural quiet descending on the sniper team as they tracked the targets.

They hadn't spread themselves out too much, knowing that there was a particular route through the trees that was easiest to traverse. They had set up around this spot, on either side of the track. Old veshok trees provided perfect branches for getting up and out of sight; thick enough to get settled on comfortably and be stable enough to take an accurate shot. Fi and Corr were stationed together up an ancient tree, around twelve metres up on a horizontal branch that was as thick as their own torso. Corr was a better shot than Fi, but Fi had trained from scratch as a sniper so his knowledge and theory of the skill set made them an ideal pairing. Atin was positioned on the same side of the track but in a different tree, hunkered in with his back pressed against the trunk and his rifle tracking. Sev and At'ika were positioned forty metres away on the opposite side of the path, each on a different branch of a large tree.

It was sniping with a difference but the remaining foliage was enough to help reduce their visibility. It would have been so much easier in summer when the trees were in full bloom, but they held on to enough greenery to provide rudimentary cover to the team.

Sev was as still as a rock, his rifle slowly moving between the possible targets before settling on one. "On the count of three, take your shot."

They all heard his steadying breath.

"One…two…"

They all fired on the third beat and four kyr'tsad soldiers dropped like stones, one with two shots to the chest. The remaining enemies reacted immediately to seek cover and find the source of the shots. Sev and Corr continued to pick off targets while Fi, Atin and At'ika monitored the surrounding area for new groups approaching.

They were doing well until a bright flare of light lit the forest and the resulting explosion rocked them. They heard Atin swear loudly and flail but he caught his balance against the trunk behind him, managing to keep hidden. A second grenade targeted closer to Fi and Corr, forcing them both to adjust their position to keep a grip. Through the resulting swirls of dust, smoke and confusion the shooting started again.

The all heard Sev shout a warning but there was nowhere to go. Sev, At'ika and Atin were still hidden but the position Fi and Corr's tree meant that they were directly in the line of fire. Fi pressed himself back against the tree trunk for support because the beskar armour could take a lot of abuse without letting them sustain any injury, as long as they could hunker down and present as small a target as possible until they just had to wait until they could pick off the enemy targets. They didn't know where three fifths of them where, so that put them at an advantage…even if they were under heavy fire.

They heard Atin clarify that he could see troops advancing towards the bastion; too far away to shoot at. They had split up and attacked from all angles, slipping through the inevitable gaps in their nets. There just weren't enough of them to create an impenetrable barrier.

Fi held his hand out to help Corr move towards the trunk, but as his brother straightened up more to creep along the branch two shots hit his shoulder and spun him off balance. Fi leapt forward to watch his arm but he could hold him and all he managed to do was knock himself off balance.

Corr plummeted, hitting another branch as he fell before landing sprawled on his back. The fall was so hard it knocked all the air from his lungs and sent white hot pain down his spine and across his lower back. The team heard his cries of pain and gasps for breath but to the outside world he was silent and still.

Fi slipped from his position but he got enough of a grip to reduce his speed and hang for a second before letting himself drop in a more controlled manner, avoiding hitting Corr as he landed and rolling to absorb the motion. He stayed down among the leaves and moss of the forest floor for a moment, keeping his body small and tucked up. "Sev?"

"_Keep down, taking out two near you."_

He pulled his head in tight, waiting until he heard Sev's confirmation that he could move. He was able to move to Corr's side, laying a hand firmly on his shoulder to keep him from squirming in pain. "Udesii, Corr, udesii." He raised his head to ensure that they were clear and he was safe to work. "Pain?"

Corr's voice was ragged. "My back, F'ika." He tried to reach up to remove his helmet but both his arms were held at his sides by his brother. "Need the helmet off, Fi…gonna hurl." All he could feel was the fiery pain in his back and the rolling waves of nausea.

Fi pulled out his own enhanced medkit; he was carrying more because of his full medical training. He found a syringe of medication to remove the nausea and quickly found a vein to inject it into on his brother's arm. He looked up towards the location where he though Sev and At'ika were hidden. "I need an assistant, please. At'ika, can you get down safely?" He heard her reply the affirmative and returned his attention to his patient. It was clear that Corr's leg was badly broken but he seemed totally unaware. "Cor'ika, do your legs hurt at all?" He frowned at the mumbled negative response. At'ika was approaching at a crouched sprint. "Ad'ika, sit by head and hold him steady so I can remove his helmet."

He didn't want to jolt him any more than was necessary but it was essential to see his patient's reactions, colouring and general responsiveness to the scenario. He managed to remove the helmet as steadily as possible then guided his daughter's hands to grip Corr's head and hold it steady in line with his spine. "You've badly broken your leg…" That was an understatement in itself. "I think you may have broken your back as well. You can't feel any of my touching what should be an extremely painful injury. I'm going to give you some strong, strong painkillers, okay vod'ika, and something to help you relax." He pulled out a few syringes of medication and injected them both, smoothing his finger over the skin afterwards to ease the sting, despite knowing it was nothing to the pain of a back injury. "And we're going to hunker down here until we get the all clear and then we can move get a team together to move you inside without doing any further damage, okay?" It sounded simple and he was keeping a calm lid on it but really, a spinal injury in the midst of battle, with no retreat point or means of moving this type of injury terrified him.

"_I've got your back. Just keep him still." _Sev's voice was gruff but comforting over the comlink.

Fi nodded, gathering his thoughts and pushing his mind on to the next medical issue. "Atin, I need you to go to help Mereel and A'den. I'll give you more kit to take but I can't leave Corr." He waited until his close brother had made his way down from the branches and approached, then pulled out a handful of clean dressings and more syringes of medication. "Control the bleeding, keep it elevated and if he's still crashing you can do a straight transfusion if necessary." He added a sterile pack to the top of the small pile. "You know how to do a sterile emergency transfusion, don't you?"

Atin sat back on his heels, an apparently calm figure in deep purple armour. "In theory, ner vod." He nodded once as he gathered up the kit and added it to his pouches. "I'll manage; don't worry about us, just look after Corr." He reached out to squeeze his injured brother's hand, feeling that pang and wishing there was something to do for him. Then he gathered up his rifle and prepared to head towards Mereel's location. "Sev?...don't shoot me. Purple armour – ask first shoot second if it's purple."

There was a tiny mark of humour in his voice, an attempt to lighten the mood for Corr the joker.

"Good luck, vode."

* * *

**_A productive day - three short chapters. Hard chapters to write and the hardest is coming up. Next one is pretty much done but I'm going to sleep on it before I tidy it up and commit to posting it. It's so hard to do significant harm, physical and psychological, to this family that you have lovingly crafted and guiding through pages of life. I could draw out these moments of first aid and fighting, but it's not what the story is about. Hopefully everyone hangs on for the ride. It'll be bumpy. ~ Atin_**


	5. Chapter 5

**Inside the Bastion ****22:41**

It was Besany's shooting that had saved them. He had managed to shoot one and wound the other before the volley of shots from the second wave hit them. The first group had fired lasers and the armour was adequate protection but some of the followers had been armed with Verpine shatter weapons. A handgun shot had hit his thigh and the pain was incapacitating as it shattered through the thigh plate and the projectile lodged in his thigh, feeling as if it had broken the bone as it hit. He was already raising his own verp to fire back in anger when the crack of armour and the sudden jerk of the body by his side made him glance sideways.

It was a sickening moment that he wished he could erase from his memory but instead it would haunt him for the rest of his days. The projectile from the higher powered rifle carried by a solid set enemy had been enough to shatter the beskar chestplate and the spray of blood coated the gold armour as his friend fell. Instead of returning fire, he found himself halting that deadly second in complete, uncontrolled shock. He couldn't react – it was as if the battle waged around him as this happened in slow motion. He was aware of Besany's cry of shock and then another jerk in his peripheral vision was the shadow of Venra collapsing to the ground. He couldn't support his own weight on his injury and it was more of a fall than a graceful descent as he got down at Kal's side. There was so much blood bubbling from the chest wound; it had to be arterial bleeding. Shatter rounds destroyed so much tissue and as he eased the older man's helmet off there was a thick coating of blood on his lips, dripping down his cheek as he coughed weakly.

At that moment, Besany had raised her verpine rifle in collected calm and shot both men with a clean double tap shot that was obviously part of Ordo's lessons over the years. It seemed that trauma gave her clarity, but she looked hauntingly vacant.

For his shame, he gave her barely a moment's attention before signally her to Venra's side, tossing his own and Kal's med kits at her. Venra was still breathing but there was no amount of drugs that were going to save his friend now. It would be a quick death – too quick to benefit from pain relief.

He took his hand and squeezed it hard, fixing his own golden gaze on those blue ones which were already hazing. "Udesii, it's okay…I've got you." He hadn't anticipated it, but he felt tears running down his cheeks, unchecked. They had hated each other for years, but the common cause had brought them together and this was the closest he had ever had to a family – much more a family than his childhood ever had been. "Don't worry about your boys…" He didn't know why he felt the need to say this to his dying friend; it was unspoken knowledge but he hoped it would quell any fears that may torment his final minutes. Kal Skirata had been nothing but sunlight and protection to this family and he didn't deserve to have any fears in death.

He had seen death uncountable times, but holding his friends hand as life slipped from him was the hardest thing he'd ever done; completely powerless and knowing that it was all happening too quickly to process. After a few minutes he touched a finger to Kal's throat then gently closed his eyes with a brush of his fingers.

What happened in the intervening minutes…hours….he had no idea. He glanced at his watch as boots clattered towards them, calling them; Mij, Niner and Parja. _11 minutes and forty four seconds._ He had the remains of his thigh plate removed, and his fingers applying pressure to the femoral artery; reducing the blood loss from his wound. He could wait for medical assistance. Venra was silent but Besany still worked furiously over her. "Mij…Venra…" He couldn't manage sentences and it was all he could do to shake his head as Mij caught sight of Kal's body.

Parja dropped to her knees beside him; an angel in red armour. He wanted to sob for the family's loss, but now was not the time. Now was the time to pick up the pieces.

"Parj'ika, help with Venra. I'm fine." _Truth be told, he didn't know if they could say 'fine' until they pulled the shattered family back together to regroup. Too many people split around the grounds. Confused messages of injuries – calls for medical assistance. It was time to regroup and take stock._

Parja paused for a moment before signalling Niner to her side. "I've put a call out to regroup. I'll help Walon, if you could take Kal back with you."

She couldn't bring herself to say 'Kal's body'.

Niner gave a slow nod, stooping down at his father's side, his movements stilted by suffocating grief. He reached out a stroke his cheek, attempting to wipe some of the blood away. Part of him was scared to take the body back to the family; scared to see everyone's reaction.

Parja laid a hand on his shoulder, watching the increasingly frantic movements of the team working over the woman who was to all intents and purposes her sister in law. She was in the best hands with Mij at her side. They all did their best but sometimes it just wasn't enough. She squeezed Niner's shoulder. "The scouts are coming back home. They lost A'den. Mereel's in pieces and he doesn't know about Kal yet…" She let her head drop for a moment, trying not to let the flood of loss take over. There was still so much to do and those injured to assist. "And the sniper team are preparing to come back in. Corr's injured – spinal – but they're bringing him in for Mij to treat. He'll need the break stabilised and he'll go straight in bacta. I spoke to Fi and despite the severity of it; he's coping well with heavy pain relief. I'm leaving the two teams outside to sort themselves out just now. They were spread around the perimeter. They all know about Kal. They'll all make their way in. They're all walking wounded if at all." She felt as if she was reading from a sheet but it was hard to form their trauma into conversation.

Niner was still frozen in place over his father, but he seemed to come back to life when she shook him gently. He'd been struggling to take in the sight before him, eyes fixed on the unmoving chest. He'd seen plenty of dead bodies, but this was his father, undoubtedly the most important person in his life. _If it weren't for Kal Skirata, would anyone of them still be alive right now. They'd have died in a corrupt army with no identity and no love. He'd be an old man if it weren't for Kal's tireless work to provide them with a fair lifespan. In his mind, his father was god like; he was not allowed to die, ever. _He shifted position slowly and gathered the body in his arms, scared to hurt him even if he was gone. It was easy to lift him – Kal had been a short man and he was nothing like as heavy as lifting an injured brother.

Parja watched him as he walked away as if treading on glass, completely encompassed by his connection with his father. She then turned her attention to Vau, settling down at his side. "Take your helmet off, Wal'ika." She removed her own, wanting to look upon the faces of her family members.

Vau slowly released the pressure on his artery and raised bloody hands to lift his helmet from his head. He grunted in pain as Parja gently tugged his hips to get him in a better position to work on, her hands working quickly to remove his belt and lower armour plates so that she could cut through the material of his pants and expose both the entire damaged limb and the pressure point on the femoral artery in his groin.

She used this exposed artery to inject pain relief and clotting agents, palpating gently to raise the vessel, half expecting him to make some show of objection to her increasingly intimate touches. "Sorry, Walon, I'll let you apply pressure yourself in just a moment." _It was hard to imagine the cruel man he had been described as on Kamino. All she'd seen was his gently and calm nature in Kyrimorut; it was hard to imagine him given Atin those terrible scars. He had been a good double act with Kal since they were both so different in their natures. Ice cold and white hot._

Vau let his head rest back against the wall with a slight laugh that finished with a groan. His own hands were fisted by his sides. "Don't worry my dear; just do what you need to. It doesn't bother me. My own father thought me deficient, not good enough for his navy or his life." _It was an admission borne of disorienting pain. A secret known to very few individuals and it could have died with Kal, one of the only men he counted as a friend, the only alive that knew his history, but it choked out through gritted teeth and dripping with bitter hatred. _

Parja glanced up at him, not entirely sure that she had really heard that and about to ask, but he had face tipped back towards the ceiling, eyes screwed tight shut and biting his lip in pain. There was the dampness of fresh tears running down into his hairline and she suddenly realised what he had said was a mark of trust and she didn't want to push that. She worked to straighten and splint the broken bone, cringing inwardly at the grating motion until she got them where she wanted. She paused to give him a moment to gather himself again, keeping her fingers pressed tightly to slow the bleeding. He hadn't made any noise of pain, but his pallor had taken on a waxy sheen.

She wasn't aware of other movement in the room, until Mij appeared at Vau's other side. She looked up at him almost reluctantly; knowing deep down just why he had moved to help them now.

He shook his head at her sadly, his face lined with stress and his gold armour dyed red with blood. "We did our best, ad'ika, that's all we can do."

* * *

**_If you're still with me readers, I do apologise for the death and destruction. Kal's death was the first thing I wrote for this story - it's why the song is so relevant - a parting song. This story is about them dealing with the loss of the founder of the family, the father figure and the protector...but I was trying to avoid giving that away. I wanted everyone to be as shocked as possible. I hope I succeeded...and goodnight to one of the most important figures in this family. ~ Atin._**


	6. Chapter 6

**Kyrimorut Bastion ****01:42**

It was too quiet in the home and that was almost as eerie as waiting for the attack. Kom'rk walked round and round the corridors, unwilling to go in to the kar'yai and see the bodies laid out. Vau and Corr had been taken to Mij's medical room for treatment but the bodies were being laid out in the central room. It was wrong to hide them away, but at the same time he didn't feel up to seeing them yet.

_So he walked on and on in endless loops._

He came to a halt at his brother's room, desperately seeking a little contact on his own terms. He didn't bother to knock and just let himself in, shutting the door quietly behind himself. Prudii's armour was spread out across the floor in a rather haphazard manner and the light was shining from the half open 'fresher door. He knelt to tidy up the plates into a neater pile but found the right chest plate to have a deep score and crack towards the top outer edge and a sticky coating of congealing blood. He knelt for a long second, knowing that Prudii hadn't been on the list of injuries. Only Ordo was outstanding, and nobody was willing to try to make him go to the med room for treatment on his broken arm.

He pushed himself back up and stepped towards the 'fresher, nudging the door open and announcing his presence by clearing his throat.

Prudii was soaking in a deep bath of warm water, still bleeding from a shot through his shoulder just below his collar bone. The water was stained a pale pink but he didn't seem bothered at all. He opened his eyes and seemed slightly taken aback by his intruder. "Wha's wrong?" His speech was slurred.

Kom'rk stepped across the floor dotted with blood and dirt to perch on the edge of the bath, splashed water soaking in to his clean tunic. "You're hurt, di'kut. Why didn't you tell anyone?" He could see the half empty bottle of tihaar set on the corner of the tiled rim and was relieved to find a reason for his brother's slurred speech that wasn't related to an injury. "Do you need a painkiller? We can take you to Mij and get him to look at…"

Prudii shook his head firmly, slipping a little deeper in to the water as if he could escape that way. "'m not leaving. Don't wanna see…" He paused, as if trying to sum it all up. "…anything…anyone." He tentatively poked at his bruised and bleeding shoulder and then pressed his hand over it as if that would make it go away. He was trembling despite the inebriating effects of the alcohol and the warm water.

Kom'rk sighed softly and rolled up the legs of his pants so that he could pivot around and dip his feet in the water. "C'mon, vod'ika, let's get you washed and out of their before you drown yourself." He reached for the cloth and dipped it into the water to wet it. It didn't take long to wipe the muck, sweat and grime from his brother's torso as he dozed and he paused to sit and watch him; a sad smile on his face. He wasn't sure if he was asleep, or just feeling the disabling effects of adrenaline dump, pain and excessive alcohol, but he looked surprisingly peaceful either way and it was pleasant to hold that false image of calm for as long as possible. Unfortunately the wound kept oozing a slow trail of blood and the water gradually got colder and colder, so he had to rouse himself from his admiration and try to get him out again. _Easier said than done – convincing 85 kilos of uncooperative, inebriated muscle to get up. _He stepped one foot out and kept the other in to give him some leverage and prevent the strain on his back, then grabbed his brother's arms, trusting that he was too out of it to mind the discomfort in his shoulder. He prodded him in the hip with his toes, waking him up as best as possible. "Bed time, c'mon, you're gonna have to help me here…" He gave him a countdown then hauled him bodily to his feet, creating a tidal wave of bloody water that soaked his trousers – not that that made much difference since he found himself struggling to support the wet, heavy body leaning on him.

It became obvious under the influences of gravity just how much tihaar had been consumed; probably more than taken from that bottle alone. Prudii stumbled, slumped and nearly cracked his head off the tiled wall if it weren't for his brother pulling him untidily out on to the floor. He let out a yelp of discomfort at the rough handling of his aching shoulder, despite being incapable of holding himself out of harm's way. He tried to jerk away but he was so unsteady on his legs that all he succeeded in doing was pulling them both to the floor.

Kom'rk growled softly in frustration, reaching for a towel and giving him a vigorous rub dry, avoiding the sore area with his rough movements. "You're a dikut, d'you know that, vod. This isn't coping, this is avoidance." He didn't mean the harshness and knew none of it would be remembered when the other sobered up, but he was missing his usual calming company; almost feeling betrayed that his brother had gone to pieces. Keeping busy was saving him from having to stop and think about what had happened; it kept him away from the cold and empty bed in his own room, and all her belongings in their shared 'fresher, just as if she would walk back through the door and crawl in to bed with him.

_He complained vehemently about her cold feet and searching cold hands, always wrapping around his stomach as she nestled close for his warmth. He complained but really, it was in those moments he felt most alive. Life had meaning when someone wanted to curl up at your side night after night, no pressure, no demands that he couldn't fulfil; just an embrace and love. Every night without fail he would slip under the sheets and within seconds her head would be on his shoulder and those cold fingers would be under his shirt against his bare chest. If she didn't do this then he knew something was wrong with her and on those occasions she would allow him to draw her close and wrap his body around his, holding her against his stomach. She never moaned or demanded, but their silent communication always worked. The code was understood and followed. And she didn't question when he woke in terror from a nightmare. He didn't want to talk about it and she accepted that from day one. She would get him a glass of water and some of the medication that Mij prescribed to prevent the onset of stress related seizures then sit silently at his side while he calmed down enough to think about going back to sleep. He had never suffered anything like as much as Ordo, or even Mereel, but just occasionally a nightmarish dream of red eyes and razor sharp claws would rip through his sleep. He had plenty unpleasant dreams, but that was the only one that woke him dripping sweat in terror. Sometimes he would be half awake and blind; horrifying seconds before the dream faded and the sight returned in his right eye – but not the left. He wouldn't accept anything that made him feel less human and more droid, and with that came semi-blindness because the idea of a cybernetic made him feel nauseous. It was against all logic, but then being a free man meant not having to go by strict logic every moment._

His came back to reality with a thump as he realised that his brother was staring at him with an intensity that belied his intoxication. If it weren't for the slight swaying effect, it would have been almost scary.

"You okay?" Prudii tried not to slur his words and focus on the haze in front of him. He knew deep down, past the clouds of alcohol and walls of avoidance that his brother had lost both a partner and a sibling, and while he was putting a brave face on it, that still had to hurt. He understood it, but he couldn't rationalise it right now and his moments of clarity were few and far between after the bottle and a half he'd consumed. "'m sorry…" He leant forward in an attempt to hug him, but his balance was shot and he clattered against him more like a tackle.

Kom'rk nodded, taking a deep breath against his brother's shoulder and holding it for a few seconds before pulling back with a smile. It was a forced smile and he felt it ache at the corners of his mouth. "It's okay, ner vod, I didn't mean it. I love you…you know that…" He ruffled his wet hair and dabbed around the shot wound delicately with the corner of the towel. "Let's get you in to bed while you're still with me. No passing out until you've got pants on and I've tucked you in, okay?" He selected a handful of bacta dressings and dressed the entry and exit wounds with slow, tired hands. They'd been awake for around twenty hours now; not counting the hours spent trying to sleep after Mij's revelation. When he looked up Prudii was already beginning to nod off. "Hey, vod'ika, c'mon." He convinced his sleepy, drunk brother to his feet and led him through to the bed, lowering him slowly on to the mattress and watching him curl up in to a ball. He smiled down at him, pulling the blankets up over his torso. "That'd be a no to the pants then, hm?" He turned to leave but felt the brush of fingers against his arm.

"Stay…" Prudii looked up at him from his nest of blankets, eyes already half-lidded. "Gedet'ye…"

Under normal circumstances he would have retreated to his room; to those cold hands and her warm smile…but there was nothing but solitude and memories there for him now, so he turned slowly, pulling off his damp tunic and crawling in to the other side of the bed. There was plenty room for two; all the rooms were set out to accommodate a couple if and when relationships blossomed, but Prudii had never made a habit of meeting ladies. He would go with Mereel to Keldabe for a 'boy's weekend' every month or so, but neither brought anything home with them, happy in their own company long term. He leant over to flip the lighting controls and plunge them in to darkness then stretched out on his back, feeling the comforting warmth of Prudii's back against his right arm. It was comforting to have someone beside him rather than the oppressive loneliness that was waiting in his own room.

He lay on his back, listening to his brother's breathing quickly settle in to the pattern of sleep. It seemed as if the years melted away and he was back on Kamino, sharing accommodation with all five of them. He didn't realise until now just how much he'd missed the presence. At the end of the war they'd enjoyed the novelty of their own rooms and then it just became the new normality. Venra had questioned how he could be so close to his brother's but nobody else could understand unless they had experienced what they had from decanting. He had likened it to being one being in six separate bodies, but that had just complicated things so he'd kissed her hair and told her to forget about it.

Nobody understood the bond. It wasn't comparable to anything else he'd ever experienced in life or seen in any other sentient beings. It was special, and Kal had given them the chance to live this life together, the gift of brotherhood and unconditional parental love. That had got them through the war and allowed them a life beyond.

And now they had to learn to adapt and go on as he would have wanted them to. Kal had taught them how to be their own men without losing the bond with each other. They just had to learn how to adapt to life without his guiding hand on their shoulders.

He rolled over to face Prudii's sleeping form and lay a gentle hand against the planes of muscle. He wouldn't have to take those steps alone.

"Thank you, vod'ika. Goodnight"

* * *

**_Thank you for taking the time to read. ~ Atin._**


	7. Chapter 7

**Kyrimorut Bastion ****04.15**

The med room smelled of blood and antiseptic, but it was tranquil, which was a lot more than could be said for other areas of the home.

Corr floated in a thick solution of bacta, his eyes half open; just enough to take in what was going on outside the tank. There was a neat scar on his back where Mij had operated to align and stabilise his spine, but despite that he was doing well. His injuries could have been catastrophic but thanks to Fi's quick action, it was fully treatable. Jilka sat by the tank, her head resting against the glass watching her husband heal. He was covered in scrapes and bruises from his fall but she could only see her handsome, powerful man. He hung, naked and suspended, looking vulnerable and now it was her turn to be there for him.

_She had continued to age normally while he slowed right down and seemed to tread water. It made no difference to them and she didn't resent him those years. He deserved it. Nothing ever changed between them, and she couldn't pretend that it wasn't nice to continue waking up beside an ex-commando in peak condition, even if she was aging rapidly herself. Corr didn't care; he kissed the lines in her skin and reminded her she was beautiful. He always was a charmer, right from day one. They'd never had children but not for want of trying. It meant she'd kept her figure all these years, but she'd have traded that in a hundred times over for a child. They had eventually sought the advice of Mij after years of failure and he had clarified that the issue lay with Corr. Contrary to her own assumptions, Corr had taken this news without apparent issue; she had expected any man to take the diagnosis of his infertility as a personal blow, even if it was given by a friend. Instead he had accepted it with a wry smile, making a somewhat crude comment about his pleasure – faulty equipment or not – and had then gone on to suggest a donation from a more able brother. Jilka had balked at this suggestion. The clones were all so close that this was of no embarrassment to them; it just seemed like perfectly logical problem solving to them, and it would be genetically identical…but it wouldn't be Corr's and that made a huge difference to her. She could mother nieces and nephews without having to bear a child. She was happy to have him by her side. That was all she needed to be happy in life. She had wept when she found out he was hurt and she was sure she'd walked a rut in to the wooden floorboards outside the med room while she waited for the surgery to be over. She wasn't allowed in to the hygienic space until the spinal surgery was finished. When he was safely ensconced in bacta she had been let in to sit by his side. _

Mij had gone to help in the kar'yai, but Fi was still working on Vau's leg. Ideally he would have gone in bacta to aid the healing but priority went to Corr, so Fi had taken responsibility for his treatment while Mij operated on Corr. Parja was pacing the room quietly, too wound up to sit still. She had helped Mij get Corr in to bacta but now she had nothing left to do. She didn't want to go with Mij to deal with the deceased, not yet, and it seemed rude to intrude on Jilka while she was sitting with her husband. So she paced around, wandering over to watch Fi closing up the incision on Vau's thigh. The old sergeant had declined more pain relief because it made him ill, despite Fi's assurance that he could give another medication to ease the nausea. He carried a different pain relief in his own medkit, but that had been used trying to treat Jilka. He was stubbornly determined not to have anything else.

Fi cleaned up the wound where he had removed the projectile and bonded the broken bone. It wouldn't take as long as leaving them to knit together naturally, but it wasn't as quick and as bacta would have been – and it still hurt – and it would scar badly, but that hardly mattered in the grand scheme of life. To live was enough. When he was finished he washed up and removed his sterile outer garments before taking Parja by the hand and encouraging her towards their room. It was time to take stock of their losses and he wanted to wrap her up in his arms and feel her warmth; to remind himself that she was still safe and just how lucky he was for that. She paused to murmur something to Jilka then let herself be drawn tight against his side as they left the room. Jilka followed soon after, blowing Corr a kiss before she left.

The med room was silent for a while except for the quiet bleeps of the bacta tank and the monitoring systems. Jaing had agreed to check periodically for the first few hours before handing over responsibility to the next person on the hastily arrange roster. Nobody needed to be chided; everyone was willing to take their time minding the patients. Only Ordo was keeping away because he had a nasty break in his arm which needed treating but he was so volatile that nobody, not even Besany, had been able to convince him to slow down and let them treat it.

It wasn't Jaing who broke the silence by creeping in to the darkened room.

Vau was still wide awake when the door creaked open and he opened his eyes to watch the shadow approaching. It detoured to pass Corr in the tank, laying a hand on the glass in contact before coming towards him. He knew it was one of the youngsters but he couldn't tell who until they got right up to him and perched on the bed. With no warning they came straight down in an attempt to hug him as he lay; hands squeezing his shoulders and a caress of long hair against his cheek. He moved stiffly, managing to get his arms up to encircle her back and turn his head to kiss her cheek and whisper soothingly against her skin. "Udesii, cyar'ika, it's gonna be okay…" It seemed like empty words when three of their family lay dead, including the man who doled out love and comfort to them all. "Come here…come on, At'ika, it's all going to be okay, you'll see." He tugged the blanket out and held it up for her, trying to shift over to make more space. Kal would have known what to do; he would have been able to comfort her and help her deal with the loss, but he was completely out of his area of expertise. He never had to comfort people, ever; he hadn't led a life that involved a great deal of close contact. His father had shown nothing but contempt towards him, no matter how hard he tried to make him proud, and when he left home he had nobody. Comfort was a foreign concept. But he did his best; letting her crawl under the blanket beside him. He couldn't manage to contain the noise of sharp discomfort as he jarred his injured leg. She was on the opposite side, but it was still hard to avoid moving it at all. Mird whined from beside the bed, raising its big head towards the noise and he dangled his arm over the edge to pat its head in reassurance that he was okay.

She leant up on her elbow in concern. "Are you okay, ba'buir?" Concern was etched on her face, caught in flashes of light from the window and the machinery. "I can get you a painkiller if you need it?" Her hand was resting on his shoulder, stroking in gentle circles.

He shook his head and encouraged her to rest. "They make me ill, ad'ika. I'll be okay." He moved his arms to pull her tight against his side, one hand stroking her hair in his best attempts at care

Ati'ka pressed her face against his tunic, hold tight around his chest. "He can't be gone, ba'buir…" She sniffed and held tighter, practically squeezing the air from his lungs. "And then when I heard you were hurt too, I thought…I was scared that you…you would die too." Her words trailed away to a whispered squeak and her shoulders shook. She couldn't hold him any tighter than she was, but laid her head against his shoulder and clung frantically to his tunic, breathing in deeply in the hope of catching the comforting scent that she associated with her ba'buir; his particular soap and toiletry selection, usually with undertones of weapon lubrication oil but all she could smell just now was the 'human' scent of battle; blood, discharged blaster, antiseptic and sweat. She was still glad to be able to cling to him and she sobbed like a child against his shoulder.

_She'd done her best to be an adult, holding her nerve in battle and keeping her cool in the aftermath, but when she'd tried to go to bed it had all hammered her senses and terrorized her. She didn't feel safe in her own bed; alone in the silence of the house. She'd heard her parents go to bed and had found herself desperate to go and climb in to bed with them. She'd got as far as the door when she heard the creaks and huffs of breath from within and suddenly realised what they were doing and backed away rapidly. A small, angry part in her wanted to rush in and shout at them. In her knee jerk reaction, it seemed like a completely disrespectful thing for them to be doing in the circumstances, but as she backed away and thought about it she realised that it could have been her father who was injured and in bacta. They had been reminded of the pressure nature of love and they were clinging to each other in celebration of life. How close had they come to losing each other…to losing their home?_

Vau lay still, unsure of what he could do or say to comfort her. He held her tightly, hoping that his touch would go some way towards making her feel safe.

_How was he going to step up and take on the duties of ba'buir? He hadn't been capable of being a son…would never have been a biological father, even if he had found a life partner…and when it came to being a grandfather, he felt woefully ignorant. He just had to go on instinct, and right now his instinct was to hold her tight – for both their comfort._

* * *

Kom'rk woke abruptly, going through those first few seconds of confusion as he tried to work out what had woken him. It suddenly all came back from him and he sat up and flipped the lamp on, realising that there was vomit on the sheets on Prudii's vacant side.

He slipped out of bed and followed the trail of chaos to find his brother on his knees on the bathroom floor. At some point in the intervening hours he had managed to get the pyjama pants on but they had a damp trail down to his knees and he was kneeling in a puddle. He had his cheek resting on the cool ceramic of the toilet bowl but had still managed to miss and make a mess around him. He wasn't swaying about anymore, but he was trembling and clammy.

Kom'rk stepped carefully through the mess to pull him upright. "D'ika, that's unhygienic; don't rest your face there." He smoothed over his bare shoulders and slowly got him to his feet, standing him over the sink. He gently tugged away the wet clothing and filled a bowl of warm soapy water. He used this to wash him down from the waist, rather than going through the rigmarole of getting him in the shower. It was quick and efficient and he soon had him c lean, and the floor wiped up. "Rinse your mouth out and we'll get you something from the kitchen; some water and maybe something to settle your stomach." He left him alone for a moment then returned with some clean pants, helping him step in to them.

Prudii was no longer as wildly unsteady on his feet so it was easier to lead him down the hall way and in to the kitchen. He let him sink down in to a chair and filled up a glass of water. "Get some fluids back in you." He fished around in a cupboard and found an old bowl – hopefully nobody would miss it. He placed it on the table by his brother's arm. "Just in case you're sick, okay, save me cleaning up more. I'll go and change the bed sheets for us."

He left his brother sitting in dazed confusion, sipping on the water, and returned to the bedroom to strip the dirty bedding. It was a nuisance, but it was the first time he'd ever seen one of them so inebriated so it wasn't worth getting frustrated. It was understandable; it wasn't the right way to deal with the emotions, but he could understand why Prudii had chosen to try to drink himself in to oblivion.

When he returned to the kitchen he could hear the commotion before he even got there. Ordo's voice was prominent but Prudii's argued responses could be heard as well. When he rounded the corner and entered the room he was confronted by Ordo.

The Captain was furious, standing right in Prudii's personal space. The start of the argument had been missed when he was returning, but he could gather enough information to realise that Ordo was bellowing at Prudii for touching Kal's tihaar. It was a completely out of proportion argument but Ordo always walked a very fine line with his self-control and it seemed that the loss of his father and a brother Null had been enough to push him off balance.

The way he was swaying right up in his brother's face gave Kom'rk that split second warning that he was about to lash out. Prudii was too hung over and dazed to even argue back properly; he was just taking the verbal beating, but Kom'rk leapt forward and grabbed Ordo's shoulders to pull him away.

He wasn't prepared for the animal strength as his brother shrugged him off and grabbed him by the collar to slam him back against the wall. They were matched for strength but he had not expected a move like that; they had never swung at each other in anything but play. They never fought to hurt and he just hadn't expected Ordo's full weight to be behind the move.

Prudii had moved in to help; roused from his stupor by Kom'rk's cry of shocked pain as he collided with the wall, realising that Ordo wasn't playing with them.

Ordo easily batted him back, knowing he barely had the strength to cross the room alone, never mind participate in a vicious tussle. His arm moved to pin Kom'rk hard against the unrelenting surface, his forearm across his throat. "He stole Kal'buir's tihaar…he stole it…" He was bellowing in Kom'rk's face, completely unaware that the arm he was using to pin his brother with was broken. The pain didn't even seem to register through the animal anger inside him.

Kom'rk was about to bring his knee up hard to force his way out, when Jaing and Mereel appeared in from the kar'yai to find out what was going on. They both grabbed a hold of Ordo by the shoulders and dragged him away, pinning them against the opposite wall, staring from one to the other.

Mereel was watching Prudii pick himself up from the floor and collapse in the chair, reaching for his basin and water. "What happened…what in haran is going?" He looked as if he'd been crying; his eyes red and sore. "Tell me what's happened, or so help me I'll beat all three of you…"

Jaing touched his shoulder gently in warning and nodded to Kom'rk. "Go back to bed. We'll deal with this when emotions aren't running so wild." He seemed to be playing referee, brother and father figure all at once; trying to keep his brother's in one piece. "Go on…it's not the time for arguing amongst ourselves. Go to bed."

Kom'rk straightened up, rubbing his throat where Ordo had pinned him. "You're right, this isn't the time." He placed a hand on Prudii's arm to nudge him towards the door again. "We'll speak in the morning, okay, Ord'ika?" He didn't bare a grudge - the pressure on Ordo was immense. As head of the family, and leader of the defence, he would feel that the losses fell on his shoulders no matter what everyone else said. He pushed Prudii in to the hall and then moved close enough to Ordo to give his shoulder a squeeze; ready to leap away if he exploded, but he didn't. He brushed a hand over Mereel's arm as well and met Jaing's eyes in understanding. "Goodnight, vode, get some rest."

Prudii was leaning against the wall a few metres from the door but he straightened up to give Kom'rk a concerned glance. He opened his mouth, but shut it again when he realised he couldn't think of anything to say that would be of benefit to the moment. His head was pounding and still hazy with alcohol; he was sober enough to feel terrible but not enough to think straight. He had woken up in his own vomit, somehow made it to the 'fresher before collapsing and now his legs felt dangerously like they would do it again. He was shivering so hard it was hard to put one foot in front of the other.

Kom'rk stepped up close by his side and wrapped an arm around his waist to help him up the last stretch of hallway to the bedroom. It wasn't too far to go, but to Prudii it probably felt like an endurance test. "It's going to be okay, D'ika, I promise."

He didn't know exactly what about the trauma had driven his brother to self-destructive drinking, but for the time being, all he could do was comfort him as best he could.

"It'll all be okay."

* * *

_**Thanks for reading. Trying to focus on each group a little - how they all react. Poor Ordo, you just know that losing Kal would tear him apart. ~ Atin**_


	8. Chapter 8

Jaing walked quietly from the kar'yai to check on those in the med room. He was glad to have a job to do because it kept his mind occupied. When he entered the med room it was all quiet and restful. Corr was asleep with steady vitals, and at the other side of the room there was both Vau and At'ika curled up in the bed. That sight made him smile but there was a lump in his throat; it was a relief to see that the younger generation could turn to the sergeant for comfort while the older family members treated him more as a friend rather than family, but it hammered home just what he lost with Kal's death. _He couldn't turn to Vau like At'ika did - so who did you turn to for advice, reassurance and unconditional love? _Kad'ika and Tor had both clung more to Kal as the figure of ba'buir, but At'ika seemed to enjoy the more detached relationship that could be had with Vau. It was good to see that he could hold and comfort as well as train soldiers - he just kept that skill comparatively quiet.

Jaing wandered over to complete a circuit of the bacta tank, ensuring that Corr's spinal injury was healing nicely and then turned to leave. He'd half intended to stay in the med room; maybe read a little or just sit with Corr, but since they were all asleep it didn't seem wise to disturb them. He'd go back in another fifteen minutes to check Corr's vitals as planned, but until then he'd just have to find something to pass the time.

As he returned to the central area of the bastion he could hear the commotion going on ahead of him and he picked up his pace to a run. He skidded in to the kar'yai to find Ordo and Atin in a stand off. Laseema stood awkwardly a few metres behind her husband, clutching a bowl which seemed to have been full of soapy water but the contents were now all over the floor and there was a rip in the light material of her top. Her lekku were tense and her features set in an expression which was somewhere between a frown and tears.

Atin had showered and must have been interrupted during the process of tending his bruises because he was dressed in only a pair of pants which had been folded up to be knee length. His hair was wet and he looked surprisingly menacing as he faced down the Null. His heavy scarring gave him a look which said 'danger', even though he was really a relatively quiet individual. If roused though, he would not let anything drop until he'd made his point and he was extremely protective.

Jaing came to a halt and looked from one to the other, trying to assess who he needed to grab - if either. "Vode?"

Ordo was breathing heavily and didn't seem to be able to move his attention from Atin, but the Omega commando managed to give Jaing a quick glance. "Leave it, Jaing."

_Leave it...what did that mean? It didn't fill him with confidence. He didn't have a clue what had gone on but Ordo was so 'fragile' right now that it could have been anything right down to a wrong breath. He found himself wanting to go and hold his brother tight and promise him that everything would work out and that he didn't need to be scared - but equally, he knew how placid Atin was, so something had to have happened that needed lancing._

He moved over towards Laseema, laying a gentle hand on her arm in comfort. She was trembling; not enough for it to be visible, but he could feel it running through her muscles. She always did a good job of holding it all together but she had evidently got a shock.

She moved closer to him in increments, her eyes fixed on her husband's back. Eventually she was pressed right up against Jaing's side, still clutching her empty bowl and a cloth. "Stop them."

It was whispered so quietly that he wasn't even sure he'd heard it until she repeated herself with an even quieter whimper. "Stop them…please."

He wrapped an arm round her, trying to lead her away from the brewing storm but he barely managed to get her more than a few metres when Ordo burst in to life; making them both jump. Laseema's nails dug in to his arm and her lekku curl tightly round his bicep as she gave a meep of fear.

Ordo had jerked in to motion and stalked a step closer to Atin, his glare completely unfaltering. He looked like a predator ready to pounce; a tightly coiled spring.

Atin didn't back away, but there was a new tension to his stance. He seemed aware if what he was risking but committed to it. There was a fire in Atin that, when lit, was not easy to dampen down. He was probably the worst person to end up in a stand off with the Null because neither would back down now.

Ordo twitched as if we were about to strike out but contained himself. "She doesn't touch him, understand?" It was more of a growl than a statement; bitter and harsh. It was like looking at a stranger.

"I don't care what you want, Ordo." Atin didn't step away, continuing to stare defiantly. "Do not lay a finger on my wife, ever. I'll only say that once." He took a step closer, every bit as intimidating as the ARC despite his slightly lighter frame. "If I ever find myself needing to repeat that, I will be doing it with a knife at your throat." He said it completely calmly, but his tone was icy with fury.

This time Ordo did lunge - and Laseema squeeled - but his fist didn't connect; Atin had anticipated the move and lurched back out of reach, his arms up and ready to protect himself. Ordo was breathing heavily now. "What would you know, di'kut? You're Vau's osik regardless of what you may think; you have no place as Kal's son, or her..." He glowered past him at the terrified Twi'lek. "She was a Ryloth aruetyc for pleasing lonely soldiers and ori'shuk'la commandos so scarred that nobody else would look at them." He thrust his hand out, indicating the scars on the commando's body. "They're not honourable scars. He just felt sorry you."

Atin had paled but held his control. He may have been Vau's commando, for better or worse, but that allowed him to fight ice cold; it was a evident that when Ordo lost his control, he was operating on reactions learned from his constant contact with Kal'buir's volatile temper. "I know you don't mean that so I'm not going to argue with you..."

Ordo ignored the interruption as if it didn't happen. "You've done nothing for this family. Kal loved seeing the family expand with grandchildren, but he never got anything but disappointment from you and Corr. He deserved to be happy - not plagued by other people's inadequacy."

That was too low a dig for Atin to ignore and his ice calm was quickly evaporating. He fisted his hands, containing his anger. "D'you not think that we wanted a baby? Don't you think Corr feels the same way?"

"Corr has an excuse, but you're functioning...you got her pregnant and it still failed..."

Jaing could feel Laseema's nails breaking his skin and he did his best to comfort her, holding her tightly both for a sense of security and to keep her away from the potential danger. "Ordo..." His tone was warning but it wasn't enough to crack through this shell to the Ordo they knew and loved.

He knew that the joy of Laseema's pregnancy and then the absolutely crushing blow of miscarriage had taken a heavy toll on the couple. _It was rare for a human and twi'lek partnership to lead to a pregnancy and everyone had been so happy for them. Mij had monitored the baby extremely closely week by week and there was nothing that had warned them that anything was going wrong. They'd got past the perceived 'danger point' so the miscarriage was even more unexpected. It was testament to their love for each other that they'd survived that trauma together. _

Atin was trembling and completely white with suppressed rage. He was doing his best to keep control and accept that Ordo was temporarily unbalanced, but such a blatant attack on his family was hard to stomach_. He had watched Tor, Kad and At'ika grow up, wishing desperately that he could be more than just an uncle and ta'buir. He loved them all as his own, but there was always that underlying pain of knowing that he wouldn't ever be able to hold his own child in his arms, and watching Laseema growing old just rubbed in the fact that he would have no family to call his own when she died. He had plenty of clan brothers around him, and the kids - who were no really adults - but Laseema was his close family._ He could feel a lump forming in his throat at the thought of life without her and suddenly found his mind side-tracked by the thought of how Kom'rk was coping with the loss of his partner. _He had no children either; did he have someone to turn to just now? He'd have to check when this was over. _He dragged his mind back on track and took a step away from Ordo. "We didn't have a moral duty to provide Kal with grandchildren - he didn't expect that of us either. He may have loved seeing kids around the home but that was because it meant we were happy. You're just lashing out, vod'ika, and it's not fair. And I will repeat one more time; lay a hand on Laseema again and you will regret it. You're right - Vau trained me, and I assure you that he shines through when I intend to make my point." It wasn't an idle threat, but he didn't really have any desire to harm a brother.

Ordo took them all by surprise in the speed of his attack; he had closed the distance while Atin was still trying to supress his anger and punched a fist down hard against his neck, aiming to make him choke and struggle for breath, then brought his knee up sharply in to his abdomen to force the air from his lungs. It was a move to incapacitate and had always been a useful one in his repertoire - but he'd never done it to another brother. It was enough to get Atin on the floor in seconds and Ordo was kneeling over him, straddling his torso with a hand on the commando's throat, forcing his head back. "Don't speak of Kal as if you knew what he wanted, hut'uun." He shook him roughly then drew back his fist, letting the punch connect with Atin's cheekbone. It was cathartic and he kept up the attack, getting more and more frantic, pinning his brother's arms to prevent him protecting himself, until he was tackled first by Laseema and then by Jaing. Laseema was easy to beat back but Jaing had him pinned on the ground with a few choice moves of his own.

Instead of wanting to throw him off he found himself feeling betrayed. Jaing was his brother; one of Kal's six original boys...why didn't he understand? Nobody could touch Kal.

_Laseema had wanted to wash and tidy the bodies ready for daylight. They needed to be dealt with and she had been planning to prepare them for whatever funeral they chose to hold; burial or cremation, it didn't matter which, but it was necessary to get them set to rights. Ordo had attacked her before she could lay a hand on Kal, knocking the water from her hands and advancing in such a threatening manner that she had screamed for her husband._

_They couldn't touch the bodies...if they got them ready for funeral, it was too final. It was hammering home the terrifying reality that his father; his guardian and saviour, was truly dead and not going to suddenly sit up and be okay after all._

_Kal'buir couldn't die. _

_Kal'buir was invincible._

_He had protected them from the Kaminese and helped them to grow in to as well balanced men they ever could be considering the nightmares that swirled just below the surface._

_He knew they all had their trauma - he knew how fine a line they walked - but he had trusted them completely and raised them as his own. He was selfless._

Jaing was still perched firmly on his chest, keeping him down even though he was no longer fighting. "No more Ordo, just rest easy for a moment." His voice wasn't harsh or cutting, he just sounded tired and emotional - the same as Ordo.

In his peripheral vision he could see Laseema crawling in to Atin's lap - he could hear her sobs, feel her distress.

He could see the blood on the commando's face as he rested his chin on top of her head, whispering something to her, soothing her. Ordo's punches had split his lip, and from the bruises already forming it looked as if he had also managed to crack his cheekbone with his first punch.

It was as if reality had suddenly come flooding back to him and everything was overly bright and all happening to fast and too harsh. He could feel a building, pulsating pain in his arm and he tried to grip it to someone hold it steady and ease the pain, but all that did was make it spike dizzyingly.

_He felt sick._

_He felt scared._

He couldn't control anything anymore. He needed his buir. He wanted to be held like a child, like that first night in Kal's quarters on Kamino. Life without Kal had been all trauma, fear, terror...the constant threat of death. Kal meant safety and control. Without Kal, the safety was gone. He couldn't look after his brothers... he'd done his best before Kal saved them, but what would he do now that there was no one to save him? If anything went wrong it was his fault.

There was a wetness on his cheeks and he felt his brother wipe the tears away and stroke his cheek gently. The pressing weight moved as Jaing sat by his side. He could feel his own tears and hear Laseema's sobs and what he was sure was Atin's quiet, gulping grief. "...Vod..."

Jaing hushed him, continuing to stroke his hand over his cheek, briefly ruffling his hair. "It's okay, Ordo'ika...it's going to be okay, I promise."

* * *

_**Thanks for reading. Took ages to get Ordo right - not even sure if I managed to get the right feel for him at all. ~ Atin**_


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

As soon as the sun rose over the horizon, the activity resumed within the bastion. Fi and Atin had headed out to dig a grave; a communal grave, as soon as it was light. Nobody was really taking charge. The Nulls were dealing with their own internal arguments so it fell to the others to take control. Sev and Scorch had accompanied Parja and Besany as 'body guards', just in case Ordo took a disliking to them preparing the bodies again.

Even faithful Besany seemed to be a little scared of her husband just now. He'd never gone to bed and he still hadn't allowed Mij to treat his arm. It had been wrapped by one of his brother's to keep the break more stable, but he wouldn't allow himself to be taken to the medbay for treatment. The bruises on Atin's body were livid and it looked like his cheek had been cracked with one of the punches because he was sporting an impressive swelling that had half-shut his left eye. He didn't seem to mind his own injuries, but he had checked over Laseema with barely disguised fury. She had a few bruises from being pushed around, but she was largely unhurt – just scared. She hadn't wanted to get involved with the bodies again, so instead she had gone with Jilka and Kix to do as much of the day to day care as possible.

The Deathwatch soldiers had ransacked the farm, killing the nuna and releasing the roba from their pens. The fields of crops had been destroyed; chewed on by the animals and deliberately set alight. Even though they had won the fight, they had been left with around half their food supply destroyed.

Corr was going to be in the bacta for at least a month, so there was no reason to delay the funeral. He wouldn't be able to attend, but he could pay his respects at the grave whenever he wanted.

Vau had hobbled out with the help of Sev and Scorch. His broken bone was set and fused, but it would take a while – or a dip in bacta, if it had been available – to strengthen the mend, and without painkillers, he was feeling both the damage and his age.

Ordo's expression as the bodies were lowered in to the ground was almost unreadable. Mereel was more plainly upset, but Ordo looked much more than just sad. It was as his world had come to an end. He didn't even cry, although a good sob would probably do him the world of good. He was still trying to be a leader while he was too emotionally unstable to take any control.

Besany stood at his side but it was like trying to love a rock. He was completely blocked off from everyone and everything.

Kom'rk, by all counts, should be the worst affected but he seemed to be holding himself together quite well. He had assisted in the action of lowering the bodies in then gone to stand with Prudii, silent tears running down his cheeks. He had lost a father, a brother and a partner, but he seemed to be coping better than Ordo because he embraced what he still had. You needed to accept the support of others in moments like this. He stood shoulder to shoulder with Prudii.

His brother looked a little pale and the worse for wear, but he had allowed Mij to clean and dress his shoulder wound and his right arm was now bound up against his chest to limit the movement of the muscles in his chest. Accepting the need for support was the key to coping with what had happened to them.

After the short, no frills funeral, they all returned to their tasks. Levet and Yayax Squad had come over to attend the funeral and offer support. Cov had been most upset to see the aftermath of a battle that they hadn't been able to help with. Kal had told them to keep to their farm – protect their own home, just in case the Deathwatch attacked them as well, but they had been completely safe and it was only Kyrimorut that had been the focus of this attack.

They wanted to do their best to help though, and one way they could was with the efforts to get the home back on its feet. Levet had organised for some of their surplus crops to be sent over, but since they shared the same farm space, this wasn't a huge amount of food considering the crops couldn't replanted until spring. They'd lost many of the fields of winter greens and hardy plants which would supplement the winter diet.

Of course, with the large funds available to the family, they could easily buy the supplies they needed, but that would draw huge risks of unwanted attention. They had kept a low profile as much as possible over the years; only visiting town when necessary and limiting their contact with those who may out them to the Empire. They did their best to protect the location and the protection of the family – of the children – was a key fact in their way of life. They couldn't just start heading in to Enceri every week to stock up on food for a family of twenty four. It would be noticed almost immediately and suspicions would be raised.

Instead, Cov had approached Fi and explained that he'd spoken to the third family of deserters who lived further away on the other side of Rav Bralor's land. They didn't get involved with the rest and kept themselves more or less to themselves, but they did work a bigger area of farmland and they had a surplus that could be given over. They even had enough nuna to give them a small flock to get started again.

Fi and Atin were doing their best to take charge of the family, but Sev and Scorch agreed to go with Jind to speak to these brothers. Sev and Corr had spent some time visiting them to help one of the brothers adapt to life with a cybernetic limb, and the Nulls would drop in occasionally, but none of the others at Kyrimorut spent much time with them.

Their speeder had been trashed in the attack but they could get a lift with Yayax as far as their farm and from there it was a hike through the forest. That was nothing to them; they were all fit men the two Delta commandos had avoided injury. It would be a four hour walk, but they weren't in a hurry. It would be pleasant to get out and about for a while.

At'ika caught them as they were preparing to leave. She grabbed Scorch and stopped him. "Can I come too?" She glanced around at the numb activities going on around the bastion. "Please…I need to get out for a bit."

Scorch hesitated, glancing around for Fi or Parja to ask. They avoided taking the 'children' – although they weren't really children now – anywhere that was a possible risk. The home of some fellow deserters shouldn't be a risk, but that wasn't his decision to make. They hadn't even taken them to Keldabe until they turned sixteen; it just wasn't worth the risk. They were one of the most precious parts of the family. "I don't know, ad'ika…"

She stepped in front of him, trying to ensure she had his full attention. "Scorch, yesterday I sat up a tree with your husband and helped protect my family. I helped my buir to keep Corr still and safe while he was terrified and in so much pain." She noticed her father step out of the hanger at the other side of the yard. "I'm not a kid…none of us are. Tor has been off doing merc work and he's younger than me!"

Scorch gave her a hard look, then relented and motioned towards Sev. "You go with Sev and I'll speak to your buir." He chased her playfully for a few steps then turned towards the hanger.

At'ika darted after Sev and Yayax before she could be called back, grabbing her helmet and beskad from the courtyard. She just wanted to a little time away from the disaster zone. As selfish as it was, she just needed to see something that wasn't traumatic. She leapt through the open speeder door and squeezed in between Dev and Yover – budging in to a space that didn't really exist.

Sev turned in his seat to see what the disturbance was and raised an eyebrow. "Is there any point in me questioning your appearance?" He sat in the middle pair of seats behind Cov and Jind.

She shook her head and he turned back around. Sev never pushed anything. He was the balance to Scorch's often over enthusiastic jubilance. He knew when to leave well alone.

* * *

The hike through the forest took the better part of five hours and it was late afternoon by the time they finally saw the farm through the trees. The plan was to stay for some food and then get a lift back to Yayax's farm with some nuna; an entertaining journey, no doubt!

They were welcomed in to the vheh'yaim by the small family. Jind and Sev were known, but this was the first time they'd met Scorch and At'ika.

She shook hands in mando fashion with all seven of the clones. The harsh featured Wolffe gave her a moments double take at first. The cybernetic made his eye shine in the darkness of the hall, but once he moved in to the light of the kar'yai it was less ominous. Jaro had bad scarring and burns down the side of his face but that was more in keeping with what she was used to; she had grown up with so many veterans of warfare that scars – physical and psychological – were nothing unusual.

The one member of the family that did catch her attention was the man introduced as Ghost. She couldn't help feeling her eye drawn to him as they ate dinner. He stood out from the others because his hair was a shocking white blonde rather than the normal near black of a clone. It was completely captivating after being around clones for her entire life.

She excused herself when the meal was finished and went to sit in the yard and watch the peaceful farmyard. It was a smaller version of home. The vheh'yaim was the same style as Kyrimorut but instead of having tunnels leading off to clusters of rooms, the family was small enough to live within the single central hub. There were six bedrooms, a 'fresher and some store rooms all off the hall that curved around the kar'yai. It was a small version of home.

She watched the night come down around them until the decision was made to head for Yayax's farm before it got any darker. The nuna had all been coaxed in to a crate but the more she watched this activity; listening to the laughing and occasional swearing as the brothers wrestled with the silly creatures, the more she dreaded returning to the solemn, depressed Kyrimorut.

When Jaro passed her to go back in to the house for something she got up and followed him. She caught him before he could leave the kar'yai. "Can I speak to you for a moment, please?"

He gave her a look of concern and motioned her over to a bench. "Go ahead."

She had been watching him during the meal and came to realise that he may have a harsh appearance and undoubtedly, he would have been a formidable soldier during his years in the GAR, but he was actually surprisingly calm and balanced despite the presence he emanated. He was as good a person as any to ask. "Do you think it would be okay if I stayed her for the night?" She had considered making up some excuse; claiming to feel unwell or something so that she had a reason not to travel back with Sev and Scorch, but she couldn't bring herself to lie. "It's just…sitting in your yard reminds me of how my home usually is…but it isn't like that right now, and I'd really appreciate it if I could just have one night away before I return." It was the straight truth. Nobody could ever claim she was dishonest.

Jaro reached forward to pat her arm, smiling kindly. "That would be no problem at all, vod'ika. Do you want me to tell Sev?"

At'ika nodded slightly, glad that she didn't have to tell them herself. Within minutes though they both appeared in the doorway. She looked up at them and forced a smile, pre-empting any questions. "I'm fine, ba'vodu, I just want one night to get my head straight." She looked at them pleadingly, knowing that they could force her to return.

Scorch squatted down in front of her and pulled her in to a tight hug. "Be safe, or your buir will chop off bits of me that Sev is quite attached to." He released her and smoothed her hair with a playful grin. "We wouldn't want that now, would we?"

She smiled at him, relieved that he was joking with her and making it easier. Scorch always had a means of lightening the situation. Sev stepped up and squeezed her shoulder, not even bothering to make his token swipe at his husband.

"Goodnight, ad'ika."

They left her alone again in the kar'yai, watching the flames flickering in the log fire. The family of brothers soon drifted back in to join her, making her feel welcome and sharing out mugs of warming, winter spiced tisane and slabs of a sweet bread full of dried fruits and nuts. It was perfect and completely homely. Shiv and Boost were first to excuse themselves and head for their rooms, soon followed by Kirii and Sol. At this point it seemed to mark the point which everyone gave in and decided to head for bed and she found herself wondering where she'd sleep. She was quite happy to stretch out beside the fire with a blanket. It was pleasantly warm in the kar'yai and she often fell asleep in front of their own fire at home. Usually one of her uncles would heft her through to her bed – even now – but sometimes they would leave her to sleep there if they'd been drinking.

Before she could ask the question Ghost got to his feet and guided her out in to the hallway. There was the usual pre-bed bustle as people in various states of undress argued over time in the 'fresher but he led her past all this to his own room. He pulled back the warm blankets and flicked on the lamp. "You take my bed tonight and I'll take the floor in the kar'yai." She opened her mouth to protest but he held up his hand to silence her. "It's okay, I won't see our guest sleeping on the floor. Go ahead. I hope you have a good night's sleep." He left her alone to get undressed and climb in between the blankets.

It was a comfortable bed and the room was tidy and relatively plain. He had a few items sitting on the chest of drawers that must be items of personal value, but the rest of the room was simple. His armour was stacked neatly in a corner; the vest and torso plates were sitting over the back of a chair and they were a deep gunmetal grey with cream patterning. One of the shoulders held a stylised artwork that looked a little like a wolf skull but it was hard to tell.

She listened to the sounds of doors closing and footsteps silencing as everyone headed for bed. No matter how many times she shifted; turning and wriggling about, she just couldn't get to sleep. Left alone so quiet, she was starting to think of what had happened. All the lovely food and drink that she had enjoyed over the evening started to curdle in her stomach and her movements were now in attempts to ease the churning. She felt cold sweat break out on her skin and her heart rate began to increase. She couldn't get the image of death from her mind.

She slipped out of the bed, hesitating and pacing the room in the hope she could settle her stomach but she felt the tenseness building and had to step out as quietly as she could, not wanting to wake anyone else. She padded silently down towards the 'fresher, one hand to her stomach and the other on the wall as guidance in the dark.

She pushed the door open and suddenly realised that the room was not unoccupied. A couple of candles were set on the counter and on the ledge beside the bath, and her gentlemanly host was stretched out soaking in the water. They both looked as startled as the other, but she managed to garble an apology before her stomach twisted and she retreated in to the hallway with her hand pressed to her mouth, willing her meal to stay put. She was fighting a losing battle and had to dash towards the door, hoping to get the locks open in time, but it was a hopeless battle and she lost before she could get the heavy bolts aside.

Much to her shame, she found that all she could do was sob. She was aware of footsteps padding up behind her but there was nowhere to go, so she just stood there in shame until a wet hand touched her shoulder.

"Atin?"

"I'm sorry…" She motioned to the mess she'd made, swiping tears from her cheeks. "I'm sorry…I'll clean it up, I'm so sorry." She felt her stomach lurch again but it must have shown in her body language because he guided her promptly back the 'fresher that he had vacated.

He waited for moment to make sure that she would be okay then disappeared for a few moments to give her privacy. When he returned he had a glass of water in his hand. "Are you okay?" He helped her up and sat her on the edge of the bath, giving her the glass. "Are you ready to go back to bed?"

She nodded slowly, taking sips of the water. She didn't feel any better, but there couldn't be much left in her stomach. It was only now that she realised that he was walking around with just a towel tied hastily around his waist. He had the same muscular physique as her uncles but somehow it was different. He wasn't like her uncles. He was different – and it wasn't just the large scar around his side that made her think that. Now that she was closer she realised that he had bright blue eyes as well; another mutation on the normal clone template. He really was something special.

As they got up, she remembered her incident in the hall and cringed. "I've got to clean up. I'll do that first before…"

Ghost shook his head and wrapped an arm around her to guide her back to his room. "I've done that, it's fine." He tried to get her to sit on the bed but she was full of anxious energy, trembling and breathing heavily. He took her hand and tried to settle her. "C'mon, let's just get you back in bed before you get cold…"

She clung to his fingers, feeling the nightmare in her mind trying to consume her. "Please stay."

Her voice was so small that he nearly didn't catch it, but he took a breath then sat down on his bed, moving his towel to ensure it stayed tied. "I'll sit with you until you fall asleep, okay?" He pulled the blankets back on the other side of the bed so that she could get in.

She took a few rushed steps and launched herself on to the bed as if the floor were covered in beasts trying to bite her. She didn't meant to collide with his chest but she ended up right at his side in the narrow bed. Instead of settling down, she sat up and fretted at the blankets.

"I close my eyes and see death."

She didn't mean to blurt it out like that but it was pushing at her conscious, and the fear was like having someone sitting on her chest, trying to stop her from breathing.

Ghost reached out and touched her shoulder gently. "I understand, it's okay. You're safe."

His touch was like a fire in her belly and despite her fear, she found it to be like a light in the darkness. "My ba'buir's dead. My ba'vodu A'den is dead. Venra's dead. And those alive are falling apart. Ordo hurt my ta'buir Atin and terrified Laseema." She drew a shaky breath. "I'm scared of what he's going to do next. It's like he's going mad." A sob caught in the back of her throat and a tremor ran through her body.

Ghost hesitated for a second then pulled her down to lay beside him, letting her curl up in his arms. "He'll be okay. He's a good man. It's just the stress but it'll all be okay." He glanced down at her, sprawled against his bare chest and clinging as if her life depended on it. A fire of protectiveness flamed in his belly and he drew her closer against his skin. "It's all going to be okay, I promise."

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_**Sorry for the huge delay in updating this story but it was leading the way with regards to the family and I've finally managed to start tying the stories together. Everything (except the Fett story) should all read as one timeline. This chapter is the next step in beginning to pull it all together. ~ Atin**_


	10. Chapter 10

_**AN: Updated to correct the glaringly obvious mistake - nuna don't have feathers to pluck...so he can't look like a plucked nuna! duh...**_

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Chapter 10

Ghost was first to wake in the early hours of the morning. He was acutely aware of his own nakedness – his towel was undoubtedly somewhere under the blankets but he couldn't accurately locate it without risking waking Atin. If anyone found them like this there'd be no explaining it away as innocent. They'd never believe that they'd just fallen asleep together.

She was still fast asleep with her head resting on his shoulder and her arm wrapped loosely around his waist. She'd been like that since she fell asleep and he'd long given up on his chances of squeezing out from under her. He was quite sure she was drooling on him, but he actually found it quite endearing.

He had no idea what the time was, but Shiv was an early riser and it was already beginning to get light outside. He didn't want anyone to realise he hadn't spent the night in the kar'yai.

It wasn't a simple procedure to squirm out from under her and he made a few attempts but when he moved, she tightened her grip on his ribs and kept him pinned. He decided to lie still for just a little bit longer, shuffling to get comfortable and closing his eyes to doze.

He must have fallen asleep properly because he woke with a start and bolted upright as the door creaked open. Shiv poked his head around in confusion, wondering where Ghost had slept since the kar'yai was empty, clocked them both in the bed and reversed rapidly; retreating in to the hall with his mouth open in surprise.

Ghost rummaged for his lost towel, leaping out of bed to follow him and hoping that Atin only got a rear view as he fumbled to get himself covered. He caught up with Shiv in the hall and grabbed his arm, pulling him in to the kar'yai and away from the risk of waking others.

Shiv twisted his arm free so violently that he nearly fell. "You chakaar! What do you think you're doing?!" He was absolutely furious; his face like thunder. The only small mercy was that he didn't raise his voice. Being deaf meant that volume meant little to him…he was perfectly capable of making his anger known.

Ghost caught his arm again to help him regain his balance. He was glad it was Shiv and not Wolffe who 'caught' him. Even this long after desertion, Wolffe was still a little unpredictable in his anger…even worse than Sol now.

He led him over to the table and sat him down, pouring them both a glass of fruit juice since there was no caf or tisane made yet. He took a few sips then wrapped his arms around his chest, feeling the chill in the morning air. _He hadn't been cold when he was snuggled up…_

"We just slept together…"

Anger flared again in his usually docile brother. "Yeah…I know…"

There was an accusation in his eyes that made Ghost's stomach twist. He hadn't done anything and it hurt to think that his family could leap to this assumption. He wasn't a confrontational person but instead of making him angry, things just unsettled him and he needed to resolve them. It was the finicky medic coming out in his nature.

But that was just it; he was a medic…he helped people. He didn't take advantage of someone. He wouldn't never do that.

A tiny flare of anger kindled in him, starting a fire that was not 'Ghost'. He was sitting here, freezing his shebs off with just a towel to cover his modesty and keep him warm, and he was having to defend himself when he'd done nothing wrong. But before he could open his mouth to vent this build-up of pressure there was a soft knock on the door frame of the kar'yai.

They both looked up mid rant to see Atin standing in the doorway with a nervous look on her face. She was wearing one of Ghost's tunics which came down to her knees like a nightdress. She seemed to realise that she was cause of this unrest and looked anxiously from one clone to the other.

Ghost felt that flame of anger burn out as quickly as it had formed. All he wanted to do was bundle her up in his arms and this brought a whole new wash of emotions that he wasn't prepared for. He didn't like feelings he wasn't familiar with and he tried to cover this with action. He pushed himself to his feet and gave her a reassuring smile. "Just go back to bed, vod'ika. Nothing's wrong." He could feel her attention on him; both listening to what he was saying, but he could also feel it like a search light over his body.

_Maybe he looked okay to a female onlooker. _

He'd maintained his trooper physique, although the lines of muscle were twisted down his side where the tangle of scar tissue ripped from the bottom of his rib cage on his back right around to the inner curve of his hip. It wasn't aesthetically pleasing, but he was happy enough to have survived his run in with shrapnel. Most troopers took shrapnel damage regularly – it was the nature of war with tinnies – but he had taken it to extremes. At the time it had felt like he had been ripped apart and whenever he looked in the mirror he could feel that pain again as fresh as if it were happening. Psychological trauma; there wouldn't be very many troopers who got through a war without something that woke them in cold sweats or plagued them in their vulnerable moments. He knew that each and every member of his small family had issues, and they all spoke about it freely. Whenever someone was having a bad moment, there was always a brother he could go to. Nobody minded being woken from their sleep, or having a sweaty, terrified body crawl in to their bed. It was part of their life. You gave friendship and comfort where you could, and in return, someone was always watching your six.

She was still watching him…so was Shiv, and it was starting to make him feel self-conscious.

It was Shiv who broke the silence. He nudged Ghost's ankle with his toe and pointed in the general direction of his room. "Go and put some clothes on, you look like a plucked avogwi.

_Well, that put a dampener on his tentative bodily confidence…plucked avogwi indeed…_

Atin stepped to the side as he made his way past with his head ducked in embarrassment. She hovered for a moment, unsure of where to go. She couldn't return to Ghost's room if he was getting dressed, but she didn't want to wander in to the argument.

Shiv stepped in while she hesitated. He patted the bench beside him and got up to start brewing some tisane. "Come and sit down, it's okay. I'll get you something to warm you up." He pottered around for a few minutes and returned with a steaming mug of tea laced with warming spices.

She took it gratefully and sniffed, inhaling the sweet scented steam. She was feeling that maybe she should have put something on over the borrowed tunic, because she was feeling the effects of the cold and didn't feel it was a good look among new friends. She nursed the mug close to her to gain the benefits of the heat.

Shiv looked across at her, then down at his hands. "Did Ghost do anything against your wishes?"

She jerked in shock and spilled some of the hot liquid over her own fingers, cursing and wiping then down her clothing. The distraction was a chance to run what had been said through her mind. _Was he implying that Ghost had… _"No…no." It burst from her in the sudden shocked realisation of what he was meaning. "He said he would sleep through here. I tried to sleep but I wasn't feeling very well and when I went to the 'fresher, he was in the bath and I intruded on him. He came to my aid and put me back to bed when I was ready. He didn't do anything…I asked him to stay because I was struggling. I needed the company." She watched Shiv, making sure that he was following her words. "I think I fell asleep on him and he didn't want to wake me up. He didn't do anything but be there so I wasn't alone." She took a few more gulps of the tea, trying to calm her nerves.

Shiv was silent for a long couple of minutes, but then he seemed to relax. "I apologise for implying anything else." It was a clipped apology but that was just how Shiv spoke. She had learned the previous evening that he didn't convey tone well in his voice, but his body language made him appear sincere.

Ghost returned before Shiv could question her any further, and the atmosphere in the room made it clear what had been discussed. He paused in the doorway, noting the time on the wall chrono.

_03:35_

He leant against the doorframe and fixed his brother with a penetrating gaze. "You questioned her? Do you believe me now?" His tone wasn't as gentle as usual. "What are you even doing up…it's too early even for you?"

Shiv nodded slightly, his fingers wrapped around his own mug. If he hadn't had to lip read, he would have been staring at the mug as well. "I was going to the 'fresher. I poked my head in and you weren't hear…I assumed…"

"Yeah, you assumed." Ghost glowered at him across the room. "You should know that assumption isn't the way forward. No trooper who makes snap assumptions lives for long…" He didn't miss the change in his brother's expression. _Fek…he'd put his foot in it there. Shiv was always sharp against any dig that he never made it to graduation. He hadn't meant that though._ He watched carefully to see if he would react, but he seemed to have let it brush over, thankfully.

He had intended to sneak out from under Atin before they were found, but now he was feeling suitably vindicated after his brother's reaction and decided that he was going to just go with whatever their guest wanted. He crossed the room and offered his hand to help her up. "I think a little more sleep would be a good idea. It's not sociable hours for conversation anyway." He gave his brother another searching glance, his malice being replaced with a wave of concern; a more natural position for him. "Are you okay, Shiv?"

Shiv nodded again, placing his mug carefully on to the table. "I'm fine."

Ghost waited to see if he'd continue, but that was all that was said.

He gently led Atin back to his room, lifting the blankets for her to slip under. He paused before tucking her in, unsure of just what to say. "I'll go back…"

"Please…stay…"

He found a completely unexpected swell in his chest at her words. He hadn't realised just how desperate he was for her to ask for him to stay; for her to want him back under the sheets with her.

Atin sat up while he switched of the light and joined her, waiting until he had settled so that she could curl against him with her head on his shoulder. She closed her eyes and breathed in his smell. It was a masculine smell that she associated with her uncles, but subtly different; influenced by his choice of soups and toiletries. She was interrupted from her thoughts by his voice. She felt it vibrate in his chest as much as she heard his whisper.

"I didn't pressure you at any point, did I? I've never tried to comfort a female before…"

She didn't know what else to say so she just hushed him, nuzzling her face against the material of his shirt. "Just rest." She was exhausted but she had got a good few hours sleep with his heart beat lulling her gently in to a sense of safety and she was hoping enjoy the same for another few hours before she had to face the day and return to the carnage at Kyrimorut. "You are my saviour, Ghost, sincerely."

It was a bare whisper against his skin, but it made him smile from ear to ear.

As they both began to drift off again he felt her fingers work their way under his shirt to rest on his lower stomach. She was breathing deeply and evenly so he was pretty sure she nearly asleep, but even if it was a subconscious move, it made the area flood with heat.

Maybe he shouldn't be feeling this, but he had had few pleasures in his life but the company of his brothers, so to share his time with another human being that could make him feel this way was another experience he never believed he'd have.

So he closed his eyes and enjoyed it, because it would fade away with the rising sun.

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**_I can't help but be envious...she's a lucky lady. ;) ~ Atin_**


End file.
